


Naegiri Week 2018

by makot0naegi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bright - Freeform, Broken Bones, Broken Engagement, Canon-Typical Violence, Confused Naegi Makoto, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Issues, Distance, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Issues, Fluff, Fluffy, Join the Fuhito Kirigiri Sucks Club, Kimi the Noble Cat, Martial Arts, Metaphors, Morning Kisses, Naegiri2018, Nervousness, Nosebleed, Post-Wedding, Relationship Problems, Reserve Course (Dangan Ronpa), Self-Esteem Issues, Sleepy Kisses, Sobbing, Sound, The Tragedy of Hope's Peak Academy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Why do i hurt makotos nose so often, bun in the oven, emetophobia warning, game, hallway, oven, prompts, time jumps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 05:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makot0naegi/pseuds/makot0naegi
Summary: Naegiri Week 2018 Prompts:1) Fluffy: Kyoko and Makoto wake up together the morning after their wedding. Adorable behaviour ensues.2) Oven: There is a bun in the oven, and Makoto has no clue.3) Bright: After a night of drinking with some colleagues of Kyoko's, Makoto returns home drunk and strangely emotional. Kyoko is determined to get to the bottom of his actions, even if he is determined not to tell her why he is acting so off.4) Hallway: During the escape from the Main School Building, even the Headmaster's daughter will not be safe.5) Distance: It has been six hours since Kyoko left the house she shares with her fiancée, and Makoto is at the point where he is wondering if she will ever come back.6) Game: TBD...7) Sound: TBD...Special thanks to NaegiriWeek on Tumblr for providing the prompts! Be sure to check out their account if you're interested in participating next year, and of course I recommend looking in to the writings of others too!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!   
> It's been a little while since I last wrote something to be posted here on AO3, but since I'm participating in Naegiri Week this year... I thought it would be fun to post some of my stuff here, and give some more promotion to the really cool people who created the challenge and prompts. So if you really like the idea of Naegiri Week, please be sure to pay the admins of the Tumblr a little visit by using this link: https://naegiriweek.tumblr.com/
> 
> I sincerely hope that you enjoy all of the pieces I have written based off these wonderful prompts, and as always I hope that you have an absolutely wonderful day. Thank you!!

Last night feels like it was nothing more than a sweet dream.

Upon fluttering her eyes open, this was the first conscious thought Kyoko Kirigiri — or should she say, Kyoko Naegi-Kirigiri; had. It was such a simple thought, and so typical of what any bride might have had the morning after her wedding. Still she found herself laying in the soft hotel bed, reflecting on the events of the previous night as if she was left to wonder. The smiles and the laughter had not yet left her mind; nor had the sweet music that she and her new husband had swayed to as Ibuki and Hajime played. The fresh scent of the ocean breeze still felt as if it was wafting through her nose as they stood out on the sand, admiring the twinkling stars. Her body even remembered the sensation of her husband’s arm wrapping around her waist, and his voice whispering gently in her ear. 

What a sweet dream it was, a dream that had once been her reality. Now, her reality had become something entirely new with the breaking of dawn. As sunlight shone through the cracks between their window and the curtain, Kyoko was made aware of the softness. The softness she was feeling against her face as she groggily glanced around their hotel room, orienting herself to wakefulness. What was this softness, she wondered, tracing her fingers along it until finally she came to her senses. 

Skin. After a night of thrilling love endeavours, she had curled up with her partner and fallen asleep right there on his chest. What she was feeling against the tips of her fingers and her face was his skin, warm and soft. Just feeling it against her she had to resist the urge to press her lips against it in every place imaginable, peppering his body with kiss after kiss to wake him from his deep sleep. She could already imagine how he might squirm and giggle in a half-awake daze, murmuring her name over and over again until he got the peck on the lips that he craved. The thought of that alone made her lips curve in to a smile as she continued to trace patterns on his bare chest. How beautiful it was, she thought, to have something so precious to touch. She could only hope that he felt the same way, feeling every inch of her own body pressed up against his. The previous night had turned them in to nothing more than a mess of a tangled limbs, one with a light blanket lazily draped over it for just a bit of extra warmth. Just a tangle of loving partners, husband and wife. Makoto and Kyoko Naegi-Kirigiri.

She didn’t bother to fight the happy sigh as it escaped at the reminder of how her lover made her feel. Instead she embraced it, shutting her eyes softly for a minute and tuning in to the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Words could barely describe all of the peace she felt in that moment as the two of them laid there together, completely unbothered by all that dwelled in the outside world. There was nothing outside of their quaint hotel room. As far as they were concerned, they might as well have been the only two beings in existence. There could be nothing without the gentleness and love that they had. It was only them, together against the big, daunting world. And Kyoko wouldn’t have had it any other way. Softly, her voice rose above the silence in a gentle whisper. 

“I love you.” She cooed, her eyes still squeezed tightly as she continued to cuddle him. Even though she knew he might not even be conscious to hear her words, she had no doubts that he felt them. So she spoke, passion oozing from every pore of her skin. “With all my heart, Makoto, I love you.”

The air fell still for a moment as she waited for a response, a simple sign that something had been heard. It did not seem at first as if Makoto might stir from his slumber, but as he took a deep breath she got the feeling she could be wrong. One of his arms wrapped itself around her, and held her nice and close. He rested his hand on her back and murmured through sleepy lips: “I love you too, Kyoko. More than anything… in the world…”

She found herself offering a slight chuckle, trying not to be too amused by her new husband’s half-awake state. As cute as it was that he was so willing to declare his love for her, his words were barely coherent. They seemed to slur together a bit as he drifted in to consciousness, his eyes not even half way open yet. It was such a classic thing for Makoto to do, he was always ready to share with the world how much he adored her. It had become a staple of their relationship since he had first worked up the courage to say ‘I love you’. Even as his wife, this little quirk of his never seemed to get old. In fact every time he did it, she felt almost as if it made her love him more. Being an open book was more charming than she might have initially believed, it seemed.

“More than anything, huh?” She mumbled as she lifted her head off his chest, placing one of her ungloved hands against his jaw. She half-expected him to jolt away from her due to the coarseness of them, but much to her delight he was immovable. In fact, she might have even seen his mouth curve in to a small smile as she held her hand against him. “Amusing, isn’t it… that I was just thinking the same thing about you. I really enjoy watching you, Makoto.”

His pleased grin made itself more apparent as he peeled his eyes open just a bit more. “Watching me sleep again?” He snickered, his words a little more comprehensible this time around. “You’re so weird, Kyoko.”

“Perhaps I am,” was all she could muster, her violet eyes sparkling as she gazed down in to the face of the man that she loved. She could hardly believe that once upon a time these kinds of expressions had been so foreign to her, but now she was constantly grinning at this lovable goofball of hers. “But I imagine, that is part of my charm to you. Is it not?”

“Undoubtedly,” came Makoto’s reply as he pushed his hand through her hair, just to gain a bit of a hold on the back of her neck. Did he perhaps want a kiss, she wondered to herself. Or maybe he simply craved the comfort of her bodily heat against his hand as he stared in to her eyes. Either way, the movement made her beyond happy. “Being weird makes you interesting, and as the most boring person on planet earth… I love interesting.”

“You are not the most boring person on planet earth,” Kyoko protested, furrowing her brows slightly in frustration. As much as she loved Makoto, she absolutely detested the viewpoint he had of himself. She had always felt that he was so much more than he ever gave himself credit for, and found herself getting more and more upset with his entire lack of self-esteem. They had been working on it together to try and get it up, but even so he still needed her frequent reminders about positive self-talk. “You are incredibly exciting. There is never a dull moment when I am with you.”

The laugh Makoto produced did not make her feel any better, for it was one of doubt rather than admiration. Still, she tried not to ruin their special time together by showing her disappointment over it. “What kinds of things make me exciting?”

“Your luck, for one thing, is extremely unpredictable. That is enough to make any day enthralling. Not to mention how you are always full of ideas, and always willing to help out every person that you meet… You are undeniably sweet, and would do anything to make sure that everyone is comfortable and enjoying themselves…” She listed, batting her eyelashes at him as if to show how easily all of these came to her. “Additionally, you are the absolute best boyfr- fian- husband, as you love and cherish me the way no other man could. You put up with all of my emotional needs and traumas, and you still choose to love me anyway… Even if I do not deserve it.”

A long pause hung in the room as Makoto stared up at his wife sympathetically, noticing how quickly her composure had changed towards the end of her list. With all of the issues with Kyoko’s grandfather to be sorted out before their wedding, he could understand her hesitation at this point. They both knew that he would open his mouth soon enough, all too eager to stop it. She did not need to hear once again that she had been manipulated by her caretaker. So before he could let a word slip out, she shook it off and continued on like it was all nothing. No silence should stand for so long, she thought to herself. No misery, either. There was only room for love in this bed of theirs.

“And…” She piped up quickly. Her newfound energy and enthusiasm caught her partner by surprise as she tangled her fingers in his light brown hair. Her solemn expression had since disappeared and been replaced with a warm smile, leaving no remnants of her negative thoughts behind. “You have really exciting hair.”

“Really exciting hair?” Makoto questioned, raising one of his eyebrows at her. Though he seemed substantially confused by it, she could hear the hint of amusement in his voice as he spoke. How fortunate that he hadn’t taken offence to the statement, she thought. “What do you mean by that?”

“I just believe it to be interesting, I suppose.” She explained, running her fingers through the short tufts all the way up to where his ahoge sat. “It interests me because of its sort of manner of being, in the same way you do. It sticks out all over the place, but its still soft… and super fluffy…” 

She mindlessly continued to pet Makoto’s head, earning her another fit of giggles from deep within his chest. Usually in the mornings he was so difficult to rouse from his slumber, but it seemed this time it was all too easy. 

“You really are so weird Kyoko.” She heard him chuckle, the unusual compliment sending her heart soaring into the skies. If only she could bottle up the way he made her feel, she thought. That way she could experience this delight all of the time. “I wouldn’t love you any other way.”


	2. Oven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a bun in the oven, and Makoto has no clue.

There was a bun in the oven. A little one, that was no longer freshly baked. It sat there to stay warm and continue to grow and change. At that point in time, she knew that the bun was about twelve weeks along in life. The bun was an entity that only she knew of, and only she understood. Even her beloved husband did not know that such a bun existed. 

This was Kyoko’s main problem, this tiny bun sitting in the oven. The bun that the doctor had confirmed the existence of earlier that afternoon, the one that he had cheerfully congratulated her on. Did he even consider that Kyoko might not have wanted the bun?

No, no. She wanted that bun. She had always expected to have that bun. That bun would be a wonderful addition to her life, and she was grateful to be able to have a bun in her oven. Not every woman could have such a bun, so she certainly had no intention of taking it for granted. She knew that her bun was something special to have, she just… had not anticipated having the bun so soon. 

The bun had not been planned. In fact, the bun had been something that Kyoko’s husband, Makoto, had promised her they could wait for. At the time he had been really quite eager to have a bun of their own, even going as far as saying he’d be content to have one right after their honeymoon. Fortunately once Kyoko had voiced her discomfort with being the owner of an oven with a bun in it quite so soon, he had backed right off and told her that they could wait for when she was ready for a bun. Only… the yeast, milk, and butter had mixed a little too well with the sugar and flour. Now, they had an unplanned bun baking in her oven, and poor Makoto had no clue. He was just happily sitting at home, enjoying his day off of paperwork. There was no way he would have predicted the arrival of such news. That was the main thing that made even pulling out the key to unlock the front door feel as if it was far too much effort. She could barely stand there and watch the key shake in her hands without wanting to burst in to tears.

The thought seemed so unfathomably stupid that she almost wanted to laugh. What on earth did she want to cry about? She wanted this baby. Her husband would be over the moon. She was grateful to have this chance. Her grandfather and her sister-in-law and all of her friends would be happy. Everything would be happy, happy, happy. She was healthy, her baby was healthy, so why did she feel so sick to her stomach when she thought of having to tell Makoto? There was no reason for her to feel this way, and yet she did. Yet it sat in the pit of her stomach like a dead weight, causing her to tremble like a broken washing machine.

Maybe it was the fact that she had never really been motherly, she considered. Or the fact that she had never had much of a mother herself, either. Of course, that was no fault of hers or her mother’s — there was not a person alive who had anticipated that Kazuko Kirigiri might get sick. The only thing that anyone had expected was the terrible absence she left behind in her death, the kind that drove Kyoko near to tears when she thought of her own child. Would it have been better for a child, she wondered, to never know the sting of a mother at all? She knew what it felt like to be an abandoned child, and she would not be able to live with herself if she had shattered her own child’s heart in such a way. Not that she had ever had any intention of doing that, of course. She was not her father, nor her grandfather. She was her own woman, who was going to love this child no matter what. She was just… nervous, that was all. Nervous about what was to come. After all, time had shown that she had had absolutely no parental guidance of quality and a totally abnormal childhood; and a lack of experience with young children. She was probably one of the people who was the most ill-suited for the role of a mother, and yet now she was the proud holder of a little bun in her oven. If she could have apologized to the poor child right then and there, she would have. 

Finally sliding the key in to the slot, she turned it slowly and tried her best not to look stoic. While other people had furrowed brows and sweaty foreheads that gave away their nervousness, Kyoko had her stoicism. As soon as her expression felt flat like a can of soda left out too long, Makoto would instantly clue in to something being up. He knew just as well as she did that she saw no need for the defensive walls around him anymore, so apathy would be a dead giveaway that something was wrong. So she had to push a pleasant but neutral expression to throw him off her trail, and strut in to their house as if nothing was off. She didn’t want to worry him, after all. This bun was a happy thing, after all.

“Hey, Kyoko, you’re back!” She heard him squeak as soon as the door swung open, his voice filled with childlike glee. No matter how long she had been gone for, Makoto was kind of like a puppy in the sense that he would always be incredibly glad to see her. Practically as soon as she had taken her jacket off, she was greeted by a sloppy kiss on her right cheek. “How was your appointment?”

“It was… good, I suppose.” She fumbled, her voice breaking slight as ‘good’ escaped her lips. Thankfully she was able to recover a little when she reached ‘I suppose’. That would make him think it was just a regular break, rather than a break that signified a secret. Not that Makoto would have been suspicious enough to notice that anyway. “I’m perfectly healthy, doing well. No traces of the poison attacking my bloodstream again.”

“That’s good,” He said with a smile, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You didn’t happen to eat anything after your appointment, did you?”

“No, I did not… did you happen to make something?”

The former lucky student enthusiastically nodded his head. 

“Yep! Does nikujaga with meat and potatoes sound good to you?”

If she could get her stomach to growl on command, she would. Growing up rich had granted her the ability to try many various foods from some of the world’s best chefs, but none of those chefs made food quite like Makoto’s. Sure, in taste it was average at best and worst, but something about it being home cooked just made her love it so much more. She had never had someone to cook meals for her back when she lived with her grandfather in Kirigiri Manor, so she was always exceptionally grateful when Makoto made her food. Especially nikujaga. His mother had passed on a particularly delicious recipe to him before she passed away, and it was her favourite. She wished there was more than one way to tell him how much she appreciated it. 

“It sounds amazing, Makoto. I’m starving.” She admitted, offering him a warm smile. How could she be scared to tell her husband about the little bun if he was this perfect? Surely he’d be happy to be making his nikujaga for one more. Maybe he’d even be able to pass this recipe of his to their little one, just as his mother had done with him. The thought made Kyoko’s heart melt.

“I’m glad to hear it!” Her husband chirped happily, releasing her waist and rushing back over the kitchen to turn off the stove. He began to reach above to a cupboard and start grabbing a bowl for each of them, stretching a little due to his short height. “’Cause it just finished cooking. It’ll be nice and hot, just the way you like it.”

Freshly made food sounded good, she thought, but she could not allow this important time to get away from her. If she could not work up the courage to tell him now, it would only be worse later when she lost herself in her thoughts. If she wanted to let out the truth, it would have to become before her nikujaga. Her heart jumped a little as she realized this, and before she knew it she was calling out to him. 

“Wait, Makoto, can we hold on just a second for the soup?” 

“Huh?” Makoto questioned, placing the bowls down on the counter as he turned his head back to look at her. His smile did not falter as he glanced back at her, clearly unsuspecting. In fact, it was actually a little teasing. “I thought you said you were starving, though.”

“I am, but… I have some news to share with you, first. Something the doctor told me.” She murmured, trying not to let out a few nervous giggles. She took a few steps toward him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s… not really an easy way to put it.” 

“K-Kyoko, what’s going on?” He stuttered, suddenly looking extremely nervous. She could see the blood beginning to drain out of his face, so she knew she had to speak quickly.

“Well… uh…” Her eyes darted back and forth between her husband’s face and the cooling pot of nikujaga on the stove. “Let’s just say that we might needing three bowls of nikujaga in a little while.”

She paused, waiting for it to click within his mind. He seemed to squint a little at her as if that would somehow help him understand. It didn’t. He just kept staring at her blankly, a vague sense of confusion sweeping across his face. There were a few points in which his expression would twist and he would look as if he might get it, but then those fleeting moments would be gone shortly after. It had become increasingly clear to her that he had no clue what she was talking about. Perhaps she was asking for too much with that example.

“Did you invite Hina over, or something?” He inquired, shrugging his shoulders. He was wearing a goofy grin, still not comprehending that what she was saying was actually something quite serious. “I mean, that’s fine if you did, but otherwise I don’t know what you’re getting at…”

“I did not invite Hina to have lunch with us today,” She answered, folding her arms across her chest. There had to be some way to get him to understand, some way that would help her say it more easily. She supposed that in some respects she could just blurt out ‘I’m pregnant’, but she had no idea what kind of a reaction that would earn her. The last thing she needed was for something unpredictable to come out of Makoto’s mouth upon hearing the news. She much preferred it when she could chart out his traditional patterns. “But I… there’s something else we need to talk about before our meal. There’s a bun.”

“A bun?”

“A bun. In the oven.”

“In our oven?” He asked stupidly, grabbing on to the handle and preparing to open it. If Toko had been with them, she was sure that she would have made a snarky comment about it being a good thing that Makoto was cute. Usually he was pretty smart, but that day it seemed he was just totally clueless. 

“Metaphorical bun!” She yelped, not willing to gamble with Makoto’s cheeky luck around an oven. Whether or not it was hot did not matter, she knew he would find some way to get hurt with it. “It’s a metaphorical bun, in the oven. We… we made it together.”

Makoto appeared puzzled as the gears in his brain started to turn. He brought a finger to his chin and tapped absent-mindedly, his brain seeming to get closer and closer to the answer with each passing second. He was clever, she thought. He would know this. “A metaphorical bun that we made to…ge...ther….” He murmured, his voice lingering on the last word as his eyes got wider. Suddenly his gaze darted up to her, and he erupted in to words that held a deep sense of urgency. 

“Are you pregnant?” He demanded, staring at her with obviously suppressed excitement and disbelief. “Did I get that right, Kyoko? Are you having a baby?”

He makes it so hard to not smile, she thought, giving him a cheerful nod. Even despite her awful nerves, the grin consumed her as she shared the news. She couldn’t hold back her laughs of relief at having finally told him, each giggle shaking her body and lighting her up with energy. 

“Wait.” Makoto muttered, taking a few steps back with his hands held out. “You’re not playing around with me, are you?”

“No!” She giggled excitedly, almost as if an invisible person was tickling her sides. “No, honey, I am pregnant. I went to the doctor’s today to get confirmed. The Kirigiri Line is going to have its heir, and you are going to have the baby you always wanted.”

“R-Really?” He squeaked, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. She could already see the way he was beginning to tremble with joy and surprise, his whole body getting in to the spirit of the good news. “Really really? You swear you’re not messing with me?”

“I swear! Pinky promise!” She continued to laugh, bouncing from one foot to the other. Despite all of the anxiety leading up to this, all of the sudden she felt just some sort of inexplicable glee. Like everything about the situation was just perfectly right. Like there was never anything to worry about at all. “I am twelve weeks pregnant. We do not know if the baby is a boy or a girl yet, but- Oh!”

As if perfectly on cue, Makoto launched himself into her arms and started to bawl. He pushed his face in to her shoulder and cried tears of joy, his words muffled and barely audible as he clutched on to her for dear life. The only thing she was able to make out was the occasional sob of “Oh, Kyoko!”, but that was really all she needed to know that he was indeed very, very happy. And thankfully, she was too.

“I love you,” She said, rubbing his back as he cried. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too!” He wailed, lifting his head up from her shoulder to look in to her violet eyes. She could see the tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at her, both of them unable to control their smiling. “I love you so much, oh my god… I can’t believe it! I can’t believe we’ve got our own little baby-”

“Our own little bun in the oven!”


	3. Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When typically-an-affectionate-drunk Makoto comes home from a night at a bar with some of Kyoko's colleagues filled with sadness and hate for himself, Kyoko is determined to figure out what is up. Which would be easy, if Makoto were not determined to avoid letting her in.

That is the last time I send my boyfriend out drinking with the guys from the police station. 

The guttural belch that escaped Makoto’s mouth only punctuated this thought as she tried to guide his drunken feet to their doorstep. Her arm was wrapped tightly around his waist as she tried to support his weight, unusually surprised at how much he was letting himself droop like a ragdoll. 

“Sorry.” He slurred, not daring to look up in to his girlfriend’s eyes, clearly trying to avoid the shame of her disappointment. Surely he must have known how awkward this was for her, having to pick him up from a night with her colleagues who had insisted on taking him out. By far he was more hammered than any of the other guys there, and it did not take an idiot to know that they had done that on purpose. By day those men may have been respectable members of the Tokyo police force, but off the job they were some of the goofiest and rowdiest men Kyoko had ever met. They had probably encouraged Makoto to drink just a little too much to make him break out of his innocent shell a little bit, while he happily obliged in an effort to fit in with the group. Next thing they knew, Makoto was so drunk that he could barely stand and they’d had to call her to come take him home. 

He let out another belch, wincing immediately after and swallowing hard. “Sorry.” he muttered again, making no effort to mask his humiliation. “This… must be really gross for you.”

“To be honest, I have barely noticed.” She lied, trying to guide his feet so he would be able to step up on to their front porch. There was no reason in telling him that she agreed with him, for it would only put him in a worse mood. For whatever reason, he was particularly weird in his drunkenness.

All things considered, she and Makoto had gotten drunk together before. Every once in awhile it would not be uncommon to find the two of them buzzed off white wine, just because they kept pouring it and pouring it to drink with their dinner. She was accustomed to white wine Makoto, who would fling his arms around her and pepper her with kisses and beg her to cuddle with him. She was accustomed to a drunk Makoto who would braid her hair and tell her how pretty he thought she was; a drunk Makoto who would bake cookies with her at midnight just because they could. That was white wine drunk. What she was seeing now was whiskey-beer drunk, and though she knew it was not the beverage that made the difference, she could honestly say she did not like it as much. Whiskey-beer drunk Makoto was emotional, and hateful towards himself, and always looked as if he was two minutes away from bursting in to tears. She wasn’t accustomed to the drunk Makoto who apologized to her over and over again the whole car ride home, or the drunk Makoto who asked her what she could possibly see in ‘a loser like him’. Whiskey-beer drunk Makoto was like watching all of her boyfriend’s self-esteem issues come present themselves in the open, and god was it hard to see. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured again as he completely missed where she had directed his foot to go. They tried again once more, and once more he failed. Shame began to write itself all over his face as he stared down at his feet, trying to put all of his focus in to having his foot get in to the right place. She could see it eating at him for a moment until all of the sudden, he seemed to wince. 

“Are you alright?” Kyoko asked hastily, raising her eyebrows at him. If there was something wrong with him, it was better that she be in tune with it rather than just assuming he was overly drunk and emotional. She herself had learned the hard way that nothing good ever came from bottling these things up.

“I don’t feel well.” He whimpered softly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He seemed to wobble as he stood, and for a moment she feared he might go crashing to the ground. “I’m really dizzy. Can you sit me down?”

“Of course.” 

As carefully and gently as possible, Kyoko lowered both Makoto and herself on to the ground so they were sitting on the path to their front door. He gave in to her willingly, with that look of discomfort and slight fear still taking hold of him. Perhaps it was the dim light of the streets, but she had begun to notice that he was looking kind of pale. Even paler than he had looked when she had first picked him up.

“Are you okay, Makoto?”

He shook his head. “Kyoko…” was all he managed to groan, swallowing hard. Even now he still refused to look in to her eyes, far too ashamed to show her the fullest extent of his vulnerability. She had not said a word about her disappointment, but it seemed as if he could feel it — far beyond the levels of it that were even there. “I’m sorry… I ruined your night. I embarrassed you in front of your colleagues. I’m a really bad boyfriend, aren’t I?”

Before he could get any further, she found herself shaking her head rather frantically. “No, no you are not.” She protested, scooting herself over closer to him in hopes of creating a connection. “You are a wonderful boyfriend, Makoto. You have not ruined anything. I am not embarrassed.”

Despite her hopes that her words might have convinced him to perk up, he still sat there stubbornly with tears in the corners of his olive green eyes. The longer they sat there, it seemed like the worse he was getting. 

“Makoto… did something happen while you were out? Did they say something to you?” She inquired, reaching over so she could grab hold of one of his chilly hands. The moment she tried to grasp one of them, he quickly tugged it away from her. She would have been hurt, if she had not heard him start to sniffle like he was about to cry. 

“No.” He sighed, “Your colleagues were nice to me.”

He sniffled once more, not refusing her attempt to place her hand on his cheek. Gently, she turned his face towards her so he would be forced to meet her eyes. That was the only way that she would really be able to get out of him what was wrong, she decided.

“Then why are you acting this way? It’s unlike you. You are usually so happy and giggly when you have had too much to drink.”

“I just am.” He huffed stubbornly, still trying to find a way to look anywhere other than her face. As hard as he was trying to avoid her, she had noticed that his bottom lip had started to quiver. Something was deeply, deeply wrong. One way or another, she was going to get it to the bottom of it — it was her job as a detective. “That’s all there is to it.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Kyoko released his face and shook her head. 

“What am I going to do with you…?”

 

As it turned out, a close-to-tears boyfriend would not be the most challenging part of Kyoko’s night. Instead, dealing with her boyfriend’s terrible ability to drink and then retain it all took that cake. Pretty much as soon as she had stood him back up on to his feet, he threw up like a firehouse for about thirty seconds and then nearly collapsed back down to the ground. It was a miracle she had been able to catch him in time. Now she was sitting with him in their bathroom as he cried in front of their toilet, cursing himself for everything he had ever done. 

Though it stung, there wasn’t much that she could do for him. All she could do was sit next to him and rub his back as he cried, trying to give him some vague sense of comfort as he went through this long line of emotions. Surely some time he would be willing to tell her what was eating away at him, but right now he just seemed preoccupied with the idea of crying his eyes out. So she sat there with him, and let him sob. She let him bawl in to her shoulder and vent about all of these insecurities that did not make any sense to her. She just sat there with him and managed his drunken state, offering the occasional kiss on the forehead and the gentle hushing of her voice. Anything to settle him, even if it was just by a little. 

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself,” He hiccuped, pushing his face in to the crook of her neck as if he desired protection. “You could have any guy in the world if you wanted, but you’re dating a whiny loser like me. You don’t have to settle, you know. You could dump me and nobody would blame you. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Shut up.” She sighed, squeezing him tighter. Like hell she was going to break up with him just to find someone ‘better’. He may have had his flaws, but she did not want anyone else. She had never once wanted anyone else. He was the first person she had ever fallen in love with. When she kept her fingers crossed, she also tended to hope he would be the last.

“I don’t know why you’re even putting up with me at all, or why anyone does. After what I’ve done, I don’t deserve nice things in my life like you.” He blathered on, unwilling to respond even to Kyoko’s commands for his silence. With the way he spoke it was as if a cork had been popped off a champagne bottle; and the liquid had started gushing out everywhere with no way of stopping it. It felt like the cork on Makoto’s innermost insecurities had been opened, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. All Kyoko could do was sit and listen. 

“All that you’ve done? What do you mean by that?”

Her boyfriend sniffled once more, and made some futile attempt to try and hide his face from her further. At this point he was so close to her that she could feel his lips on her neck, something that in any other circumstance would make her shiver. At the current moment though, it mostly made her wonder what on earth he was trying to accomplish by shielding his face from the world. It felt as if he was beyond the point of wanting to hide himself from her, and instead thought it would be optimum to simply conceal himself from the world. 

“The Tragedy stuff.” He muttered quietly, tears still travelling down his face and dripping off his chin. All of the sudden his sobs had become much more silenced, and his body had been consumed by tremors. “The School Life of Mutual Killing, too. I did a lot of awful things.”

“It was the world’s darkest hour, of course you may have done some terrible things. So did everyone. What matters is that you try and do better.” She soothed, “You have already done so many good things with your life, Makoto. You have made some mistakes, but in the end you provided hope to so many people-”

She had been ready to continue when the sound of his voice cutting in to her own had made her stop cold. Something about his tone gave her chills, and created a feeling akin to having swallowed a bowling ball. She couldn’t bother finishing her thought then, for now she was too concerned about him and had to listen.

“I didn’t provide Maizono with any hope.” He murmured, grasping tightly on to her shirt. “Or Kuwata. It was my fault both of them died in the first place. If I had been smarter, they wouldn’t have had to die.”

“There was no way you could have known…”

“I could have known for Fujisaki and Oowada. If I had watched Fujisaki and Oowada more carefully, maybe I could have stopped the mistake from happening. Maybe if I had been nicer to Yamada, he wouldn’t have followed Celestia so blindly. I could have saved Ishimaru the same way too. And Oogami? I should have tried harder to get everyone to believe in her..”

“You know none of that was your fault-”

“What about Yukizome then? The Great Gozu? Kimura? Izayoi? Kizakura? Andoh? Sakakura? Gekkogaharra? Bandai?” He rattled off a list of names, sounding more and more frantic with each emerging name. It seemed as if his frustration and grief was building with every new name he spouted from his lips. “What about my parents, Kyoko, should I have known better then? Or how about when I brought that same shitty fate on to you?!”

Kyoko gripped him like somebody was threatening to rip him away. All of the sudden she understood what was making him spill his guts out in a drunken stupor, and that only made her want to hold him closer. If she could have it her way, she would hold on to him that tightly until morning came. 

“They do not blame you for what happened to them.” She whispered, begging to every known god in existence for him to hear her words as true. The certainty of his safety was depending on it, if her hypothesis was correct. “You have to know that. What you keep seeing is a lie, a nightmare made up by Enoshima to convince you to die so she would be better off. It was just a video. They cannot and would not want to hurt you. You just had a bad dream last night, and you have driven yourself crazy thinking about it all damn day.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He gasped desperately, “I can’t stop… thinking that there was something more that I should have done… I thought maybe all that alcohol would drown out the screaming so it wouldn’t be so loud… I was wrong. I was wrong, and now I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“There isn’t any need to be scared.” She assured him, planting another soft kiss on his sweaty forehead. Then, slowly but surely, she eased his face out of hiding so her gaze could meet his big, wet eyes. “I am right here with you. I always have been. Whenever you need me, Makoto, I shall always be here.”

Slowly, the small boy nodded. New tears began to spill from his eyes and follow the tracks of the others as he gazed up as her, still trembling like he had been in the cold for hours. His expression remained harshly disconsolate, but even so she could see a flicker of brightness in his eyes. Contrary to his beliefs, all that was good about him was not gone. In fact, it had never left.

“Will you stay with me until the morning, Kyoko?” He asked quietly, to which she replied:

“I’ll stay here and hold you until the sky becomes bright.”


	4. Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Kyoko had one mission for Class 78, it was getting all of them out of the Main Course building alive and well. If Makoto had one mission, it would be not letting his crush die.

Beyond the walls of his homeroom, Makoto Naegi could never have imagined that this was what remained of their world. 

A deep, dark shadow had been cast over Hope’s Peak Academy… No, not just Hope’s Peak. The whole world had been eaten alive by this darkness, swallowed whole and never spat out. Despite all of the good Makoto had once seen in his world, on this day he could see nothing but dark, evil despair. 

It had all started with “The Parade”, which was by no means an event that lived up to its cheery name. Somehow, word of the skeletons in the Steering Committee’s closet had created a domino effect. The story began with the anonymous email from a member of the student body, revealing that the use of the money from the Reserve Course’s high tuition fees. As it turned out, the money was used to fund an experiment meant to create artificial talent in human beings. In spite of the school’s high hopes for the project, anonymous claimed that the subject of the experiment went awry. The email went on to debunk the story about the missing Student Council members, confirming that they had not left to study abroad. The story was actually crafted to cover up the fact that the students had been slaughtered, taken down one by one until there was nothing left but the blood splattered subject known as Izuru Kamukura. 

Once word got out about the committee’s crimes, the Reserve Course students were in an uproar. They were shouting and waving signs in the air and clambering through the school gates, trying their best to get through and “achieve justice” for the crimes committed against them. Whatever that meant. As far as Makoto was concerned, there was no use in fighting fire with fire — his mother had taught him well that that is the way in which everyone gets burned. It was almost funny, he thought, that this idea was coming to him now. For so many years he had followed it so blindly, but now he finally had some more use for it. Especially considering the whole damn school had begun to burn down around him. 

What had once been a beacon of hope became a standing tragedy. It seemed with each and every new hall he turned, he was affronted by the gory sight of pooling blood around Main Course and Reserve Course bodies alike. The stench of smoke mixed with the fluids of rigor mortis assaulted his nose and made him gag. Every new hall held another increase in volume when it came to the tortured screams and the devilish laughter, and with every corpse he swore he could taste the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. Even the air itself sent shivers down his spine as he and six of his classmates wandered throughout the school hallways in search of a safe haven. If he had any other choice that allowed him and all of the others to survive, he was sure he would have taken it. Unfortunately, however, this was their only option. 

Their homeroom teacher was long dead by this point. They had considered her to be down for the count long ago, having never turned up to class. Somewhere on the sixth floor, they had found her body. Based on Kyoko’s diagnosis, she had been bludgeoned repeatedly until she was beyond recognition. They had first taken a swing at the back of her head to knock her down, and then began to strike down upon her face as she rolled around in pain. By the detective’s estimate, she had been struck at least twelve times before finally falling limp. She had been coming to warn them, and had instead been taken as one of the dead. Her help was no longer an option.

As for the help of the others, well, at that point they were not sure that there were any others. They had barricaded themselves inside of their classroom fairly early on in the rampage, insisting they could just hold out for a little while. At the time they were sure that other classes were doing the same, but they failed to consider that most classes did not have the same muscle and student power that they had. Thanks to Sakura and Mondo, they had a better chance at keeping those barricades up. Thanks to Kiyotaka, nearly all of their classmates were in the room. The only ones who were not included in this were Junko and Mukuro, as the two sisters had not shown up for class at all that day. Nobody had seen them that morning when it all began, so they had no other choice but to count them among the lost. The group had yet to find their bodies.

The remaining fourteen students were alone in the world now, the group of them having split off in to two separate teams to attract less attention. The plan was to slip by the Reserve Course students undetected, and make their way out of the school swiftly and silently. Once they were outside, they would reconvene inside of the Ex-School Building. After all, the Reserve Course students were not likely to go there. What business could they possibly have with an unkempt brick building and its boarded up windows that all in all equated to it being a deserted area? They would want to be where all of the Main Course students were, so Kyoko had decided that going to the former school building would be the best course of action.

Kyoko…

The thought of her rang in the back of Makoto’s mind as he creeped around the building beside her, his ears tuned to hear even the slightest of sounds that could indicate an ambush. In all of this confusion and fear, Kyoko was the one aspect that he felt he had certainty in. She was his best friend, after all. He had always been able to trust her with anything that he needed, so he had no doubts about following the plan she constructed. He had been the first person to put his hand in when she’d suggested it, and he intended to be the first person to back her up should anyone choose to doubt her. He had confidence in her brilliance and resourcefulness that he had witnessed time and time again. He knew that no matter what was going on, he would be safe so long as he was with her. He even considered the idea that perhaps it was her presence that was keeping him going.

“It shouldn’t be much further now.” Chihiro reported in a low whisper, glancing back at Makoto and Kyoko with distinct uncertainty. Of the six of them, Chihiro was the most nervous. The present situation had turned him in to a puddle of fearful tears, right up until Sakura had taken him under her wing. She’d promised the meek boy that she would look out for him as long as they were out there. So far, she had managed to do that quite perfectly. Though by all means he could still be labelled as the most fragile of the group, at the very least he had a smidge of confidence that came from his trust in his friend. “A few more floors to go, right?”

“Four, to be precise.” Celestia answered with a nod of acknowledgement, her faux French accent laying on to the word ‘four’ heavily. If it had not been for the fact that she was not so skilled at rolling her r’s, Makoto might have been able to believe her facade. “After that, we should be able to exit through the building’s back doors and escape undetected.”

“A-A-A-Assuming we can k-keep this up, that is.” Toko chimed in completely unhelpfully, chewing on her thumbnail skittishly. “You never know when they might c-c-come to get us.”

“What a pleasant thought, Fukawa.” Kyoko sighed, the irritation clear in her voice as she folded her arms across her chest. How amazing it was, Makoto thought, that she could keep her composure even in this situation. Sure, he knew that there was certainly fear that lurked behind her mask; but he was stunned to see that she refused to let even a little bit of it show. 

“I-I-I-I’m just being h-honest.”

“Well, perhaps consider keeping it to yourself.”

Yikes, talk about blunt. For a fleeting moment he might have felt bad for Toko, if he had not heard her snarky “ice cold bitch” comment that was murmured under her breath. Judging by the slight twitch of Kyoko’s eyebrow shortly after, it was fair to assume that she’d heard it too. For the benefit of the group, she had simply avoided saying a word about it. They could not afford to be arguing when they were so close to reaching safety. It was better to let Toko’s snotty comments drop. That kind of maturity was typical of Kyoko.

As the group approached a larger opening on the floor, Makoto felt a wave of momentary relief crash in to him. From this point in the hallway he could clearly see one of the school’s staircases, completely barren aside from a discarded bloody knife and a… oh. His relief gave away as quickly as it came, and instead he felt guilt pool in his chest as he stared at what lurked there. A Main Course student had been murdered in that stairway. Stabbed to death with a pair of scissors that were now soaked with the colour crimson, taking with them all of the life had once been in the student’s body. Now the two lay together, the scissors sitting almost innocently in the body’s lap. If it were not for the face, frozen in an expression of the final moments of agony, it could have seemed relatively peaceful. As if the person were merely sleeping.

“Please don’t tell me that’s another body I see down there,” whimpered Yasuhiro as they approached, clinging on to Sakura’s shoulders in an effort to hide himself. His voice seemed to shake as he spoke, sounding so distraught at the idea of having found yet another body. Everyone had grown so tired of all these damn bodies.

“I fear it is,” Celestia remarked, “I do not think we can be mistaken about it. That is a dead Main Course student. Young one, too.”

Makoto swallowed hard, his hands curling in to fists as his eyes squeezed shut. God, it had only been an hour or so and he already felt sick of this. Sick of the bodies and the screaming and the constant fear. If he hadn’t been running off an adrenaline high, he felt certain that he would have collapsed from exhaustion by now. There was no greater challenge to him than trying to overcome whatever feeling this was, this pitiful sitting in his stomach as he stared at the corpse of the dead student. Without noticing it he began to bear down on his bottom lip, so hard that within moments his tongue found the familiar taste of copper. He had been too hurt to care. 

“Easy now, everyone.” Kyoko hushed, putting a supportive hand on Makoto’s shoulder as they stared forward at the body. “I understand that it’s difficult to look at, but we need to press forward. Otherwise we risk achieving the same fate.”

A deafening silence hung in the air as they all stared back at her, grief and frustration in their hearts that swam through the truth of her words. At a time like this, they would have no room to feel sorry or disgusted by what had been done. The only sensations they could experience revolved around the fear of repetition, and so as inhumane as it felt; they knew that they had to press forward. So even with the awful lump sitting in his throat, Makoto decided to move on. He trusted Kyoko’s judgement, and moved along. He continued to take step after step along the others, to the stairwell and down it; until they finally came to the fourth floor of the school. 

The silence they found on that floor felt eerie and deeply, deeply wrong. When the expectation had been chaos, this near peacefulness seemed suffocating. The air was unnaturally still as they stepped in to the main hall, accompanied only by the scattered bodies of the Main Course and weapons of the Reserve Course. The only sound that seemed to echo through there was the crackling of a fire that no one had bothered to put out, and their shoes hitting the ground with each gentle step. Why was nobody here? Had the Reserve Course already given up on this floor, having killed all of the living students for their twisted sense of fun? The thought shot chills down Makoto’s spine as he glanced over at Kyoko desperately, hoping for some kind of answer. Instead, he saw a glimpse of her troubled face and a glint of something silver out of the corner of his eye. 

Suddenly he became very aware that they were wrong about the populus of this hallway. 

It was seven plus one. 

“Kyoko, look out!” He screamed, the one behind her beginning to take their swing; drawing their weapon back to bludgeon her over the head with it. With newfound urgency Makoto slammed his body in to hers, sending the two of them crashing to the ground in a chorus of shrieking. They hit the ground together with a thud, with Kyoko laying on her stomach while he held his weight on her back. For a moment he did not dare look up at the assailant, too scared to even look in to the face of the attacker. But when he heard the yell of frustration, he knew he could no longer avert his eyes. 

“Damn you!” The student shouted, swinging his crowbar as if he was going to hit the smaller boy’s back with it. Wincing, Makoto curled himself further against Kyoko’s body in hopes of protecting her. “Interfering with my kill. Even at your lowest moments, you vermin are still getting in the way of my glory! I’ll show you. I’ll make you regret that!”

Before he could even get the chance to flinch, the Reserve Course student wound up his foot and kicked him square in the nose. The force of impact was so hard that he released his grip on Kyoko and went tumbling to the wall next to her, nearly hitting his head on it on the way over. Blood gushed from his nose as he tried to process the pain spreading through his face, his hands flying up to assess the damage done. 

“Naegi!” He heard Kyoko cry out, scooching over to grab on to his arm and check on him. It shocked him to see that she barely acknowledged their attacker anymore, putting her focus in to making sure he held up. “Naegi, are you okay?”

Blood continued to gush from his nose and coat his hands as he nodded his head frantically, urging her to get out of the way of the attacker. He would not be able to live with himself if she got seriously injured or killed making sure that he was okay. No matter what happened, he needed to know that she was going to be safe. She meant more to him than he had ever had the courage to admit.

“Both of you, stay down!” came Sakura’s sudden order, her powder blue eyes glinting with sudden rage. Without another word she flung herself towards the assailant, slamming the heel of her palm in to his nose. He stumbled backwards from the pain, sending a shameful sensation of satisfaction through Makoto’s chest. He knew it probably was not right of him to be wishing this pain on to others, but in his defence… his nose really, really hurt. So much so that he feared it may have been broken, especially on account of what appeared to be steel-toed boots worn by the assailant. So maybe he had a bit of a right to feel pleased by the boy getting what was coming to him. 

“Ow!” The boy screeched, his free hand flying up to cover his nose as Sakura wrenched the crowbar out of the other. Within the blink of an eye it seemed that the Class 78 students had gained the upper hand against their unexpected enemy, as Sakura continued to fight against him with ease. Discarding the crowbar to the side, she hit him with move after move to get him against the ground. He was practically powerless to fight against her, collapsing to the ground within the first five minute with a final thud. What a pathetic opponent he seemed then, writhing around in the ground in pain. 

Once she had officially knocked him down Sakura drew back, panting heavily as she turned back to Kyoko and Makoto. The two of them were still laying together on the floor in a pile of nerves and slightly tangled limbs, clutching each other with desperation as they watched Sakura finish her fight. 

“We need to vacate this area immediately. Can you walk?” 

Hectically, the two of them nodded.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Shit!” 

The word slipped out before he could even think about saying it, much to his embarrassment. After nearly dying and being kicked in the face, one would think that Makoto would not care much about swearing in front of the school’s headmaster. However, one would be wrong if that was their train of thought. He was indeed quite embarrassed by the word, knowing that it would not have been his choice if he weren’t in so much pain.

“I apologize, I am trying to be as gentle as I can.” came the response from the older man, clearly not all that concerned about the style of language he was using. Makoto supposed that in some ways Kyoko’s father would be able to understand the pain he was in, although he was surprised that that might have been what let him off easy. “I’ve almost cleaned off all of the blood.”

“He certainly got quite the hit in, Naegi.” Kyoko commented from off to the side, trying to examine the condition of his nose from a distance. Ever since he had knocked her off her feet in that attempt at protection, she had refused to leave his side. For the rest of their venture to the new building’s exit, she had kept a watchful eye on him to ensure his safety. Even when the headmaster had urged her to leave so he could receive care, she had stubbornly refused it. In a way, it felt almost as if she thought that it was probably the least that she could do for him after what he had done for her. 

“Definitely,” The headmaster agreed, wiping a little more gingerly with the wet cloth. Makoto tried not to remark on how much of it was now stained reddish brown from his dried blood, and instead put his focus in to looking up at the ceiling. It was easier to think when he wasn’t staring in to the headmaster’s face. “But he certainly took it like a champion.”

“It is broken though.” 

“Yes, it is broken, Kyoko.” He sighed, continuing to scrub at the stains surrounding the skin around the luckster’s nose. “Thankfully I have the materials to repair it, but it will be sore for awhile.”

“Small price to pay, really.” Makoto laughed softly, still keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Just sitting there he felt tears collect in the corners of his eyes from the pain. Yet really, he felt nothing when he thought about them. He meant what he said, this pain was a small price to say. He had saved the life of someone he loved, and that was enough to make all of this pain worth it. “Tis but a scratch.”

Soft giggles came from Kyoko’s side of the room as she watched him, a sincere smile on her face. “There is that optimism that I know so well.” She snickered, tucking away some of her hair. “I was beginning to worry that that Reserve Course student had kicked it out of you.”

“Nope!” Makoto responded cheerfully, completely oblivious to how talking made the headmaster’s task of wiping down his face more difficult. “The only thing I lost there was blood. Otherwise, I’m right as rain.”

“Of course,” She laughed, inching closer to him. “I would not expect anything less from you.”

“Indeed…” Jin sighed, getting his last few wipes in before withdrawing to examine his progress. Aside from a harsh cut across the bridge of the boy’s nose, there was no real remnants of blood still on his face. At the very least, that was good. Of course, that only meant that the hard part would be coming next. “It would seem as if you are all done being cleaned, Naegi.”

“It would appear that way to me.” Kyoko added matter-of-factly, being surprisingly tolerant of her father despite her distaste for him. She was probably playing nice for his sake, Makoto decided. “It is still crooked though. Are you going to put it back in to place, Headmaster?”

The headmaster’s eyebrow seemed to twitch slightly at being referred to that way by his own daughter. Something told Makoto that he and his daughter were not quite in the same realm of understanding when it came to names. Still, he hid it quite well and recovered quickly, nodding to the daughter who had forcibly disowned him. 

“I am, but I would like to go and get some more supplies first. Perhaps check up on the status of the other students.” He paused for a minute, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. “Kyoko, would you be alright to stay here with Naegi while I do so?”

“Of course.” 

The headmaster nodded once again. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” He murmured, and with a few swift movements, he was on his feet and out of the room — leaving Makoto and Kyoko in silence. The two sat there quietly without an uttered word, simply staring at each other for what felt like hours. They stayed this way until finally, Kyoko spoke up.

“Naegi, I…” She mumbled, staring down at her own lap. “I never got the opportunity to thank you for saving me while we were in the school building.”

He couldn’t help but notice how gentle her voice had become, so soft and sweet sounding to his tired ears. The sound had been enough to entice him in, leaning in a little bit more towards her without thinking. From this position he was able to remark that she still smelled kind of nice. Like lavender, that had been unfortunately mixed with smoke… But mostly the lavender, though. 

“It’s okay, I-”

“No, really, Naegi.” She said, slowly moving her gaze up towards his, so their eyes could locked together. It was then that Makoto noticed the rouge tint to her cheeks, and realized that there was more to this interaction than she was saying outright. “Thank you. For saving my life. I always knew I could count on you.” 

“It’s no big deal, really,” He chuckled awkwardly, feeling his own cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He had never had a moment quite so vulnerable with Kyoko before, so it had become rather difficult to get a hold on his emotions. The secret crush he had been harbouring for her certainly wasn’t helping him out too much either. “I know you would have done the same for me.”

“It is a big deal. Not everyone would have had the courage to do what you did, so I just wanted to say thank you. For that, and for… everything else that you do.” She finished, leaning forward and planting a gentle kiss against Makoto’s cheek. Instantly the luckster’s face flushed bright pink at the sensation, his whole body feeling absolute joy that he was going to have to try and hide. In this moment of pure delight, he found he only had one thought:

If getting kicked in the face was the price he’d have to pay for more cheek kisses, he’d let anyone kick him in the face a thousand times over.


	5. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been six hours since Makoto last saw Kyoko, and he's beginning to worry that she might not come back.

Kyoko had been gone for six hours, and for each of those hours Makoto feared that the distance between them had only grown. Six hours of tears, six hours of anger, six hours of hating each other and wishing that things didn’t have to be so complicated. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t felt that way. He was just upset, that was all. He had been upset and he didn’t understand why she kept yelling at him. The two of them had so rapidly become such a tangled mess of emotions that it had escalated to a point that made him want to vomit. He still cringed thinking about their final words to each other before she’d stormed off. 

“What the hell do you want from me, then?! What else do you want me to try and do to make things right?! I’ve been fighting tooth and fucking nail for this to work, and no matter what I do it still never seems to be enough! So what the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to do to make this relationship survive, because I don’t have another way to understand you! I don’t have a leg to stand on! If you’re so unhappy with what I’m trying to do for you, then maybe you’re marrying the wrong person!” 

He could still picture the furious look on her face as she tore the rose-shaped engagement ring off her finger, nearly taking off her glove with it. Before he could even process what she was doing, she threw it on the kitchen floor. 

“Maybe I am, then! Maybe I don’t want to marry you at all!” She screamed, clenching her jaw so tightly that her face had begun to turn pink. To most people it would be rare to see her this angry, but he had been seeing it far too much lately. “Maybe I should just do what my grandfather wants, so I can be less of a fucking burden on you!”

“I never said you were a burden, all I said was that I didn’t understand!” He shot back, his fists curled into tight fists as he proceeded with his side of their screaming match. However, despite his attempts at continuation, it seemed that Kyoko would be having none of it. Her fury was unmasked as she whipped away from him and began to storm towards the front door. “Kyoko! You come back here and listen to me right now!” He remembered ordering, hints of worry breaking through his voice as he shouted for her. She ignored this, continuing away from him until she had firmly placed her hand on the doorknob. For a moment she turned back to him, as if she might want to say something… but not one word fell from her lips. All she offered to him was one short stare before the door opened and slammed behind her. 

For a moment, there was silence. Silence as he stared at the door and waited for it to open again. She would be back, he had thought. Any minute, she would be back with something else to say to him. They would keep fighting, maybe he would start to cry. Then she’d settle down and they’d talk about what was wrong. Just like they always did, during the off times in which they fought. So he stood there in front of the door, and he waited. He waited for her to come turning back to him, to maybe keep fighting him and tell him he was wrong. He must have waited in front of the door for an hour, just staring and waiting for her to come running back in… but she didn’t. She left him standing there, turning the discarded engagement ring over and over in his hands as he prayed that she would return. 

Six hours she had been gone.

He had stopped waiting by the front door around hour two, and instead planted himself in the living room. In there he found he was more comfortable, but could still sit on the couch and look out the big front window to see her when she came home to him. He could light the fireplace, and pick up the book of wedding plans they had. He could flip through the pages absent-mindedly, looking over the venues, the food, the decorations, all of the details they had planned together. He could bide his time as he waited for her, still in denial about what had happened. She would come back, he’d decided. Sooner or later, she would surely come back.

By the time hours three and four had rolled along, he started to have his doubts. Every two minutes or so he found himself checking his phone for any missed messages or calls, but nothing ever came in. He thought once that maybe he had one, but it ended up just being an image of a goofy looking sculpture Komaru had seen while she was out with Toko. Nothing that he could bring himself to care about at such a time of crisis. So he kept right on waiting, doing little things to keep himself busy. He felt it was best to do all of the things Kyoko had always wished for him to do, to see if that would help him any. He cleaned up the bathroom, did the long overdue dishes, and reorganized his entire desk and file cabinet so things would be in order. He kept thinking to himself that maybe these little things might help bring her back, or at least make her happy when she did come. Sure, it was childish, but what else could he do? She was refusing to speak to him out of stubbornness. If she was to come back, she would have to find the will for it on her own. He wouldn’t be able to coerce her with any of his words. She would need to return to their home of her own accord.

Makoto cracked during hour five and phoned her. She didn’t pick up. She just let it ring and ring until he was asked to leave a message for her. Overwhelmed by his own vulnerability, he did. 

“Hey, Kyo… It’s me, Makoto… your fiancé… I just wanted to… give you a call, to see how you’re doing and all that. I haven’t heard from you in a little while, and I guess I just kind of started to worry… I know you’re a capable woman and you can handle yourself, but I… I wanted to say that I’m sorry. For what I said, for the way I acted, for making you feel like a burden. I really just want things to work between us, and I was being selfish when we spoke. If it means I get to marry you, I promise I’ll do whatever it takes. I just… please, will you come back home so we can sort this out? You know I hate leaving fights unresolved, and I am getting worried about you being gone for so long. So can we talk? Please? I’ll leave the front door unlocked if you want to come in. I’ll even make you some tea for when you get here, okay? So uh… yeah. Sorry again for being a huge, dorky jerk to you and I hope to see you in a bit. Bye, sweetheart. I love you. Come home safe, okay?”

The message felt pathetic, but it was the best he could over the phone while keeping his coherency in tact. Truth be told, while speaking the message he had to pause time after time to steady his voice’s shaking. With every new phrase he felt as if he was inching closer to erupting in to a puddle of apologetic tears. Even though they had fought, he truly did love his fiancée. She was the light of his whole world, and he didn’t know what he would do if she had meant what she said. If she did not return, he knew he would feel the loss forever. 

Hour six marked the false hope, when Komaru had slipped through the unlocked door cheerfully. She had wandered in with arms full of decorations she’d picked up alongside Toko, giggling to him about how they had purchased some of the most striking fake flowers for the wedding’s centerpieces. She had been ranting and raving to him for a full two minutes until she noticed the expression of sadness that had carved its way in to her brother’s face. The moment she caught wind of it, her bags were discarded and she sat down next to him gingerly, taking hold of his free hand. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked him in a voice as sweet and soft as silk, the same voice she always used when he was seriously hurt or sad. She strained to try and peer in to other rooms of the house for a minute, before turning back to look at him. “Where’s Kyoko?”

Makoto couldn’t find the words. Not without sobbing, that was. So instead he curled open the hand that clutched Kyoko’s silver engagement ring, the diamond in the center of the rose glinting at him and Komaru almost tauntingly. The moment his younger sister caught sight of it, she pulled him in to a hug.

“Oh Makoto,” She whimpered, rubbing his back as she clutched on to him tightly. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t bother with any words, he merely accepted his sister’s comforts and thanked God for having given him such an empathetic little sister. As far as he was concerned, Komaru was as good as they came. She was always there for him in times of hardship, including this period of relationship strain. In fact, if she was home while it happened, it wasn’t uncommon for her to jump in between the fights he and Kyoko would have and try to resolve them peacefully. She was always there to take care of things, even now. For that, he was severely grateful.

But Kyoko still wasn’t back yet.

Would she ever come back? With each passing minute it felt less and less likely. How could he manage if she wasn’t going to come back? What would he say, what would he do? Everything would become a miserable mess without her, and give him a life devoid of joy. Though they’d fought, he still loved her with all his heart. What on earth was he supposed to do about that, if she chose not to come back? 

The question didn’t end up getting answered, for around hour six and a half the door opened and a familiar figure stepped in. She was hunched over, her clothes soaked and torn and coated in mud. Her long hair hung limp in front of her face, and mascara ran down her cheeks in an effort to show that she had been crying. Her whole body was consumed by trembling as she stood in the doorway, staring miserably forward at the shocked sibling duo in the living room. For a minute she said nothing, until she found it within herself to crack a weak smile.

“I got your message.” came Kyoko’s familiar voice, still shaking from emotion and the cold. Tears seemed to spring to the corner of her eyes once again and spill down her cheeks in black tracks that would mark up her skin. But god, Makoto didn’t care. He ran to her and flung his arms around her, pulling her close to his body.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” He whispered in to her ear with fragility, holding on to her as if he felt somebody was going to try and pry her from his arms. “I thought you were really done with me this time. I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Are you kidding?” She hiccuped, pulling back from their embrace. “I could never keep my distance from you.”

Relieved smiles plastered themselves on to both of their faces, and before Kyoko knew it her fiancé was pressing his lips against hers and crying. So she draped her arms around him, and cried as well. Together they kissed and they cried, knowing that no matter what happened, there would never be any distance between them.


End file.
